(rped by Techabyte)Not but a few weeks ago, it had happened.
Vanwyn had fallen, tumbling down the ledge and toward the lands outside the borders of the Flock territory. It was there that a Skinwalker by the name of Neva appeared. She attacked, and if it wasn't for her father, Taarab, the two young foals would have been whisked away, and probably never seen home again. But that didn't happen. Instead, she was found by her mother, and ushered back into the territory, back to safety. And after being reunited, the filly had realized just what had happened.
Her father was so close to death. He was injured, and even the best of healers had to be careful. They had been scared that he wouldn't make it. And though he did survive, he was still horribly harmed. Vanwyn felt it to be her fault. If she hadn't ran off... If she hadn't have tripped and fallen down the ridge.. Her father would be all right. Despite her thoughts about males, due to her raising, she felt close to her father. She felt a lot of things, honestly. But, shaking her head some, she knew she had to do something. Her father had called to talk to her soon, and though for a while she avoided it, and pretended that she hadn't heard him, she couldn't avoid it any more.
The filly moved forward slowly, carefully. She sighed some, her ears pinning. Every time she looked at her father, she felt pained. Like she had done something wrong. But, she wasn't sure what to do now. She moved forward, walking toward the Artisan Guild, knowing her father would be there. Upon walking in, a few stallions stared at her curiously, some nodding in greeting. She smiled lightly toward them, before moving quietly forward and locating the familiar pale body and blue feathers of her father. She trotted forward some, and stared up toward him with bright eyes. "Papa?" She said, her voice soft, almost scared sounding.
The artisan was exhausted.While the wounds he had received had not been fatal, they had left him with a burning fever as they became infected and had required to be under the constant care of a healer as, while a few of them were unicorns, none of the ones willing to 'waste' their energy on a male when there seemed to be a small slew of skinwalker attacks that would make it more important to save their energy in case one of the guards or warrior were truly skilled in the magic to banish such 'evil spirits' from the body, either so hybrid in or untrained in anything beyond herbal remedies that their magics were weakened.
However now the fever had broken, but he was still easily exhausted by the pain and weakened by the injuries. He felt grateful that Gersemi, one of the rehabilitative healers, was willing to work with him, but currently sleep was most important for his body. But so was fresh air, a little exercise, and some sun. Hense why he had carefully, been lead to the artisan guild where he could fiddle with things in his claws to regain his dexterity. However he was worn out quicker than he liked and limped into the nearby nesting cave and to the nest he usually took when it was his turn to stay and man the kilns over the night.
It was here where Vanwyn found him, dozing lightly. He opened his eyes and smiled at the little mare, "Mmn.. 'Mistress' Vanwyn, it's a pleasure to see you this afternoon." He chuckled, suppressing a groan as he shifted though his eyes tightened slightly as he fought the urge to wince, "Were your classes good today?"
The filly shifted carefully among the different scrap pieces and material. She tripped at one point, over a long piece of metal, and tumbled forward, letting out a soft grunt when she hit something else. The filly shook out her head, causing her mane to get messed up, before peering up. Morkin stood before her, the gentle stallion letting out a soft chuckle, before helping her up, and greeting her kindly. He pointed with his nose, telling her that Taarab was in the nesting area, and to be careful where she stepped. Feeling clumsy and only slightly embarrassed, the filly nodded, before getting back to her feet. She thanked Morkin, and trotted off toward the nesting area, her tail giving a half swish, before falling still. She was scared suddenly. What if he didn't love her any more? That was highly unlikely... but still! As a young filly, she could never be certain what adults were thinking. And it was her fault that her father had gotten hurt in the first place. Wrinkling her nose slightly, she sighed, before pulling herself forward and into the room, dragging her claws as she walked.
When her eyes fell upon her father, Vanwyn found herself filled with greif. She hadn't meant to get anyone hurt... And by the looks of it, Taarab was seriously hurt. She felt the corners of her eyes sting with tears, but blinked them back, shaking her head and scuffed her claw against the ground, forcing herself to calm down. Thankfully when she had entered, Taarab had been asleep. But she heard him let out a small noise, before speaking. She quickly fixed her gaze on her father, staring at him quietly, before taking a half step forward, and then back again, almost as if she was dancing in her spot ( though almost everyone knew that Vanwyn didn't dance ). The filly opened her mouth, before closing it once more, unsure as what to say. She frowned, chastising herself for acting such a way. This was her father and he was just greeting her! She shouldn't be head over claws in confusion! It was a simple response!
"H... Hello, daddy.." Her voice sounded small, weak. Not anything like her usual strength. Vanwyn's voice was something she highly prided herself in; and for some reason it seemed so much smaller today. She frowned at the thought, before pushing it aside. There was no point in trying to get it to come to her right now. She needed to check up on her father! That was what was important. Letting her eyes flicker to stare at the white stallion, she frowned, before letting a small panic run through her. "No! Daddy! You shouldn't move!" Vanwyn exclaimed, rushing forward to push her velvety nose against his shoulder, almost as if trying to push him to lay back down, but there was no force behind it. She didn't want to hurt him. After all, she had already done that once in her lifetime.
His question caught her ears, causing them to perk. Vanwyn glanced up, staring at him from behind thick eyelashes before looking back down at her claws. "It... Um..." She honestly wasn't sure how to answer. She hadn't gone to her classes today ( and she was sure when her mother and teacher found her she would be in big trouble for skipping out, but she wasn't feeling right ). She thought about lying, but she couldn't bring herself to lie to her father. Vanwyn wasn't much of a liar anyways; she was always caught, or felt bad and informed the person the truth soon after. Flicking her ears back, she looked down at her claws once more. "I didn't go today..." She murmured as quietly as possible. Hopefully he wouldn't be too cross with her. After all, she had skipped so that she could sneak here to see him, and ensure that he was feeling okay, and that he was doing everything to return to the healthy daddy that she loved.
Taarab laughed softly when Vanwyn rushed over to try to make him settle back into the nest he was dozing it, "it's ok Vanwyn -- moving helps me regain strength, though I was just moving to a more comfortable position."
He crossed his arms in front of him almost delicately, flexing his fingers. He remained silent for a while, thinking about what his daughter said. He knew why she didn't go to her classes, but it didn't change the fact that doing so too often wouldn't be good for her standing in the rank, especially if its over a male such as himself. But to a child, even the smallest injury seemed a disaster, a small scrape on a loved one a grievous and open wound. He knew he must seem so weak and deathly ill to her young mind, unused to seeing harm beyond a bump or bruise that could be healed with a few kind words.
Sighing, he shook his head, and smiled at her, his voice comforting, "Vanwyn..." His voice tightened slightly, becoming a bit sterner, but retaining the kind sound, "You can't avoid your classes because of me; Those classes will help you become stronger, and right now I need you girls to be strong for me."
He lowered his head to groom her mane, then took one of his clawed hands and, with a delicate precision, pulled her against his chest and trapped under one of his large feet, and lipped ticklishly at his daughters ear, trying to make her laugh, "I'm going to be fine, Vanwyn. "
The filly shifted quietly in front of her father, her weight going from one foot to the other. She flicked her ears back slightly, scuffing her claws against the ground, eyes lingering on the ground, before up at her father, and back down. She tried to keep her mind calm, but it was screaming so many different things over and over. She heard her name, and nibbled at her lower lip a bit. Breathing out a sigh she lifted her eyes once more to her father. She almost flinched when he started to talk again, nervous that she was in trouble, but by his tone, she relaxed a bit. And, by how he had started to speak, she let a soft smile move onto her features. Yes, he was right. If she went to classes, she would be able become strong, and learn much. And with that she could become a strong Harpy... right?
Lifting her eyes, she watched her father quietly groom her mane. Yes, it had become unruly due to her tumbling. She shifted slightly, tilting her head with a slight giggle, before she was pulled forward. The motion made her laugh agian, before she shifted and rolled a bit, head tilting a bit. "Daddyyyy~" She whined some, before smiling up at him, and shook her head to get him off her ear. She glanced up at him some, frowning at his last statement. Would he be? She tried to calm herself down, but once more she was growing scared, and uncertain. She ducked her head down and against Taarab's chest, eyes lowered once more so that she could think. She shook her head, before feeling a whimper escape her body.
"Daddy... I..." She murmured, her voice soft and uncertain. She shifted against him, ensuring that her face was well hidden, and her body was pressed against him. "I... I'm.. sorry..." She whispered, tears springing to her eyes without her real knowledge. She didn't know what was going on, but her heart was beating faster, and she couldn't stop the tears from rolling down her cheeks. It was all her fault, her father being in this state. And she hated it more than anything. She didn't want him to be in pain, and didn't want him to be scared, or hurt. She blamed herself, and though she hadn't admitted it yet, it was practically obvious.
"Vanwyn." Taarab's voice took a more firm tone as he took a free claw and tipped her chin up and toward him, meeting her eyes with his own strong warmth, "You have nothing to be sorry about."
He shifted again, his eyes tightening slightly at the pain, and put a hand on his chest, "Did you kick me here, breaking my ribs with your hard hooves? Did you slash my shoudlers with your clawed wings?" The artisan lowered his head, lifting her head once more with his claw as he touched his nose with hers, "No. You didn't, and you shouldn't listen to the one who did." He lifted his head, giving her a jaunty and mischievous smile, 'Besides. who are you going to believe? Some musty old bat with its evil twisted spirit magics, or me? I may be a male but I learned a thing or two about evil spirits from your Priestess Laveda and Oracle Aylin."
